Chapter 27
Gabe
Izzie signs books for hours. She’s a little trouper, her enthusiasm restored after the threat from the stalker was defused. My chest swells with pride knowing, in true James Bond fashion, I’m the one who figured out who the stalker was and who subdued her. Sadly, I didn’t get to use any fancy gadgets like Mr. Bond does, no OMEGA watch with a built-in laser, or a Montblanc pen grenade (Charles W. Paddington comes to mind), or an exploding keychain. Bummer.
“This is the biggest book signing we’ve ever had!” Mr. Parchment exclaims as he closes and locks the doors on the heels of the last patron. I feel a twinge of satisfaction knowing I’m the one who tipped off the Berringers about Kat Von Steenburg attending Izzie’s book signing, betting that they couldn’t resist posting it on the Celebrity Detection Network. It’s the least I could do after Luke told me Izzie was so stressed over losing so many of her YouTube followers.
It’s almost 11:30pm, and I’m amazed the fans stuck around for this long. Izzie’s publicity over the last forty-eight hours certainly helped hype the event, and I’m sure plenty of people attended more out of curiosity over her attack in Denver than a desire to see Kat Von Steenburg or get a copy of the book. But I’m sure Izzie’s not complaining about the extra sales. It also helped that around seven, Izzie insisted she order pizza, the security team distributing slices to everyone still waiting in line.
“I had a lovely time, meeting all those enthusiastic fans,” Izzie adds. The table beside her is covered with a huge pile of gifts presented by her followers. Cookbooks, hundreds of packages of fan-favorite makeup they’d like Izzie to try so she can post a review, and even a wood carving of Izzie’s face—although I personally think it looks more like a poorly whittled cat than Izzie, but I’ll keep that to myself.
“Shall we wrap things up and leave?” I ask, trying to nudge this along. Even though I had a slice of pizza earlier, I’m starving, my stomach groaning in protest every few minutes.
“Yes, I’m ready,” Izzie says. Shaking Mr. Parchment’s hand, she says, “Thank you for staying open until I was able to meet with everyone and sign their book.”
He nods. “Come back anytime! We’d love to have you.”
A store employee brings out a cardboard box and Izzie and I pack up her gifts. I lug the box as we walk to my rented SUV. Out of habit, I scan the deserted lot in case a zealous fan is lurking about. Luke and the other security guys left about thirty minutes ago. I need to tell the General about what a great job Luke did on this assignment. After the stalker was neutralized, my colleague decided to catch a late flight home. Luke wiggled his eyebrows as he teased me on his way out, “You obviously don’t need any more help from me with this assignment.”
When we’re safely enclosed inside the vehicle, Izzie says, “Is it too late to hit a drive-thru?”
I laugh. “I’m sure some are still open, what are you hungry for?”
She grins. “An In-N-Out burger and a chocolate shake.”
Since it’s the weekend, we probably have a shot that they’re still open. I key in the request into my GPS and a British voice, male this time, says, “The nearest In-N-Out Burger is 1,571 miles. Turn left.”
We both howl. “Oh, my goodness! Guess we won’t be going there,” Izzie says.
I ask the GPS for the nearest burger joint and it brings up a list. “5 Napkin Burger is 3.9 miles away.”
Izzie shrugs. “Sounds messy, but let’s try it.”
“We’ll just ask for lots of napkins,” I add with a smirk.
After selecting that location on the GPS, I pull out of the bookstore lot, then say, “Do you suppose one of their employees will report our location to the Celebrity Detection Network?”
“Do we look like celebrities in this nondescript SUV?” she teases.
“You should have checked out the license plate.”
Her brows draw together. “What does it say?”
When I saw this SUV on the rental car lot, with its tinted glass and unique plate, I knew I just had to have it.
“B-I-G-D-E-A-L,” I say.
She smacks my arm. “Why’d you rent a vehicle with that flashy plate?”
I laugh. “Because I knew I’d be transporting a Big Deal back to her hotel room.”
She rolls her eyes, then points her index finger at me. “If Bernie and Bernice start following us, no car chase, Mr. Bond,” she says in a firm schoolteacher’s tone.
Dang! “What fun is that? I’m sure I can outmaneuver them in this SUV.”
“Let’s put our James Bond days behind us. Okay? I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet after the chaotic last few days.”
My heart sinks . Does she want to get rid of me already? “Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“I’m thinking of hiding out in a remote location. Do you want to accompany me?”
My heart soars . “I’d love to.”
“I think that can be arranged. I asked Winston to make the reservation.”
Holding up my hand, I say, “Surprise me. Don’t tell me where we’re going.” As long as Winston doesn’t rent the honeymooners suite, I’ll be happy wherever we go.
“Are you up for a cross-country road trip to get there?” she asks.
“Ah, so we’ll be hiding out at an In-N-Out Burger?” I joke.
“Not exactly. It’s a resort Winston found on the internet,” Izzie replies.
That doesn’t bode well, based on Winston’s selection of the Cozy Inn. I’ll just roll with it.
“Should I swap this SUV for a limo for the trip?” I tease.
Izzie shakes her head. “Nope. I’m putting my celebrity days totally behind me.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Really? What do you mean?”
Smiling, she says, “I’ll let you know once all the details are in place.”
“Your destination is on your right,” the British accent says, interrupting our bantering.
The 5 Napkin Burger joint’s sign is still lit, so I turn in to the lot.
“Think I’ll get two Messy Eddie burgers, along with fries and strawberry shake,” I say, reading the menu.
Izzie squints at the sign. “They really mean it when they say five napkins, don’t they?” she says absently. “I’ll have one Sloppy Susie burger and a diet Sprite.”
Waggling my eyebrows, I say, “No shake? You know you want one. How about you get a chocolate shake and if you can’t finish it, I’ll help you out.”
“Well, that’s big of you, Mr. Martin.”
I laugh and pull forward to the order window.
“Can we take the order back to the hotel? Just like the good old days?” she asks.
I’ve got the key to Luke’s suite tucked in my pocket, already planning to use his room for the night. “Sure.”
The sleepy drive-thru employee takes our order while stifling a couple yawns. After we pay and collect our food at the next window, the employee peers through the tinted glass and says, “Is there a celebrity in this vehicle?”
Izzie grunts and leans away from me so no one can see her. After the day she’s had, I don’t blame her for not wanting to interact with anymore fans.
“Yes,” I say, in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Who is it?” he asks excitedly.
“Someone who wants to remain anonymous. However, I can tell you that her first name is Martha,” I say, then pull away.
Laughter floats from the passenger seat. “Oh my! Gabe, you’re incorrigible,” Izzie says, as her hand sneaks towards the food. “I’ll take the bag.”
“Nope. I’m keeping the bag. You’ll eat all the fries before we get to the hotel,” I grumble as I set the drinks in the cup holders between us.
She pouts then settles back into her seat.
“It’s only 6.2 miles to the hotel. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” I say.
My eyes stay focused on the road, but a few minutes later I hear the sound of someone slurping up the last few drops of a drink up a straw.
“Did you just polish off that chocolate shake?!” I huff.
“Maybe?” Izzie says, then giggles.
Pouting, I say, “I had my heart set on getting some of that.”
“You’re the one who withheld the fries! I’m starving; I had to do something to ease my hunger,” she huffs back.
After two beats, we look at each other and laugh.
Our relationship takes back off as if we never hit a bump. It’s just like old times, as Izzie said. I can’t wait for the upcoming road trip and showing Izzie exactly how I feel about her.